Broken memories
by Pumpkingirl
Summary: A story which proves that a simple headshot can be painful not only for the one who gets it, but for the the others who have to cope with aching memories because of it. AU! Kelly is still alive. A surprise pairing and possible Jen/Jethro later.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS and its characters, I'm just playing with them.

**Summary:** The team has never seen Gibbs being so upset before. Is it just the stress combined with too much caffeine, or their newest dead marine has something to do with him being so tense? Maybe both?

**A/N: **This is the beginning of my first longer story. It's AU, because of the fact that **Kelly is still alive** and only Shannon died back then in 1991. Kelly is 27 years old at the time of the story. Jenny isn't dead either, she's still the director of NCIS.

Many thanks to my beta, anna-garny, who helps me a lot with this story!

* * *

**Plan for that night no. 1 – Tony**

No, this time he didn't have a date.

That's because poor Tony-boy was turned down by his latest dream girl- the newest hot shop assistant in a nearby bakery. He really did everything he could to win the girl's heart, but when smiling and eating croissants every day for a week had no effect at all, he gave up trying.

This fact, however, didn't discourage him from having fun, so he found another way to entertain himself that night; he was about to watch a Hitchcock masterpiece with Abby down in the lab.

He couldn't wait for the clock to reach six, so he could finally go to make some popcorn for the big event of the night.

**Plan for that night no. 2 – McGee**

McGee was about to flock together with his university buddies.

Once a month the little company gathered in a bar to drink a couple of rounds while talking about their lives – real or virtual, whatever.

McGee wasn't quite a beer drinker – he couldn't imagine why all the other members of the geek team liked that stuff so much.

Timothy – as a matter of fact – hated bars, too.

But most of all, McGee abhorred when his so called friends baited him for being an NCIS agent, or rather, made fun of him for not being a programmer at a prosperous firm, like all of them.

Despite all the circumstances, McGee wouldn't have missed out any of these gang meetings for the world, beacuse these dull reunions meant a chance for him to talk about the new software he was working on, about the lines and lines of code he was so proud of.

**Plan for that night no. 3 – Ziva**

Ziva planned to have pure fun that evening.

She wanted to forget about the world at least for one night. She wanted to be herself; let her senses go wild, be a really bad girl – in that not-killing-anybody sorta way this time.

What had earlier proved to be the best way of letting off steam for her was a night incognito. Walking into a club, dancing passionately under the glaring lights, sipping some coctails, getting tipsy – these were the things she needed exactly, and a little bit of more.

She had in mind she would wait until there were enough guys around her, till the air would become extremely hot, then maybe she would pick the most attractive one in the crowd just to pull him out to the parking lot and make love to him in his car.

The way the alcohol dulls her memory, she would forget the lover's name too.

But this was the night, when Tony didn't make popcorn, McGee didn't get a chance to go into raptures about softwares and Ziva didn't have sex with anybody.

* * *

An incoming call in the evening was every agents' nightmare, because it ruined the best-laid plans with one shrill ring.

"Gear up, we got a dead marine! McGee, go get Ducky!" Gibbs commanded, right after he'd hung up the phone.

Gibbs didn't have any special plan for the night, he only wanted to putter with his boat until his headache was gone so that he could sleep. He had only one more important thing to do - to give Kelly a call. The girl had broken up with her boyfriend a week ago, and she wasn't over him yet, so she needed a bit of support from her beloved daddy... and Gibbs would have done anything to comfort her. He even suggested to her that she move back home for a while, but of course she'd declined that, insisting she was all right, life goes on, and if not, then she could cope with the situation just fine, all by herself.

Gibbs didn't like her decision at all, but he knew Kelly was far too proud to show how hurt she was. How could he expect other kinds of behaviour, without knowing that she'd be just as stubborn as him? She was his daughter after all...

Right after he'd heard they had a new corpse, Gibbs felt in his gut that something creepy was about to happen. This feeling had nothing to do with his plans for the night going up in smoke, or with the awful headache he'd suffered from all afternoon. It was an intuition of some kind when a person feels that something is going to happen, something that might affect his whole life.

Just a silly fear, an anxiety about an unpleasant thing that is (maybe) about to happen. Like a sinister calm before the storm that could upset not only his present, or his future, but his past as well.

_N*C*I*S_

An hour passed in an instant when the unsaid prediction, the bizarre worry fulfilled itself.

And Gibbs was throwing up violently in the dead lieutenant's bathroom.

He felt three dumbfounded looks and Ducky's supporting hand on his back, but he was unable to stop retching for a long time. He put one hand on the tile, his other palm rested on his own forehead.

His head was throbbing and the sight of the dead body laying in a pool of blood in the other room wouldn't give him peace. Like a frozen picture he saw it again and again and he couldn't get rid of it, didn't matter how hard he was trying to concentrate.

"All right, Jethro, it's better now, isn't it?" Ducky asked, when he ascertained that the sudden attack was about to be over. His hand was on Jethro's back, just reassuring him that he wasn't alone.

As the nausea subsided, Gibbs was finally able to extort the horrible image from his mind, but the one it was replaced by was a memory generated by the sight of the dead body and this way that was even more painful for him.

_The fair-haired little boy's head rested peacefully on the pillow, but it seemed like his cute, almost angelic face was intensely focusing on something even in his dreams: he pulled such a funny face as if he had been licking a slice of lemon just a moment before, his eyelids stirred from time to time – his muscles wouldn't have relaxed, not for a second as his chest rose and fell. Gibbs couldn't help but smile, because somehow he felt warm inside._

_It was at the time of the afternoon nap._

_Nick was only sleeping._

And the grievous vision of the body laying in the next room hustled back into his mind right away.

Though meanwhile the hair turned into brown, it framed the very same face exactly the same way.

What made the only difference was that the pillow became dark red and fluid, and the glassy eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling. His chest didn't move any more – his lungs gave up their monotonous activity for eternity.

This time Nick wasn't just sleeping.

As a matter of fact Nick's brains appeared to have been smashed out by some unidentified dirt-bag, who was still out there, somewhere, happily breathing.

When he felt the trembling subside and he could finally feel his legs, Gibbs went to the tap and splashed some water on his chalk-white face. When he straightened up he saw the reflection of an astonished Tony, horror-struck McGee and concerned Ziva in the mirror.

Gibbs turned towards them, water ran down his face and fell towards the floor, streaking down his shirt.

"What are you staring at? Haven't you seen anybody puke before?" he asked, glaring at them... but there was no ferocity in his tone.

"McGee, go look for footprints on the carpet, Ziva, you take photos, Tony, fingerprints and search the place for drugs, maybe there's more than what we saw on the night stand! Come on, why are you still here?"

"On it, boss!" they said in a chorus, then they started to push one another out of the bathroom.

Gibbs faced Ducky now. He knew that no words would be adequate to make the worries that he saw in his friend's eyes disappear, but he couldn't do anything about that, not yet.

But he spoke, because he couldn't leave him there with nothing.

"I don't want to talk about it, Duck. I'm fine now. Let's check on the babies, before they turn the nursery upside down."

He put one hand on Ducky's shoulder, managed a weak smile and followed the three ne'er do wells back to the crime scene.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading, reviews are welcome and apprecieated! :)


	2. Chapter 2

"So what do we know about the victim?"

Neither Tony, nor Ziva had any idea about where Gibbs had spent the past hour.

They hadn't seen him since they got back from the crime scene and he'd left them in the elevator. He told them he had somebody to find upstairs, that he'd be back soon, and by the time he was back he wanted to hear every little detail about whatever they could find out about the dead marine.

Both of them looked confused as the elevator door closed in their faces.

Who the hell was Gibbs looking for up there? There was only one floor above them, which was rented by a separate company, except one part that happened to be the evidence storage space.

Tony and Ziva exchanged looks and didn't even need to speak to realise that they were thinking the exact same thing: Gibbs wasn't looking for somebody - he was looking for something.

They weren't far off the mark.

Unlike them, McGee knew what Gibbs was after up there, and therefore he knew his boss wasn't about to set foot in the storage space. Sure, the elevator would go only one more floor up, but there were stairs that led even higher to a place where one was almost guaranteed to not be disturbed. McGee was sure it was the silence of the roof that Gibbs yearned for right now, more than anything – a quiet place with fresh air, that might help him to relax and to clear his mind.

_N*C*I*S_

Although when he joined them in the bullpen he seemed to be the same old Gibbs, but Tony knew him better than to beleive the facade. Knowing what little signs to look for it appeared to him that something was wrong with Gibbs – the more he observed it seemed that nothing was right with his boss.

"You okay, bo…"

He started to inquire, but Gibbs didn't let him speak:

"I asked if you found something, DiNozzo! If you plan on getting some sleep tonight, you better spit out some useful information and stop worrying about anything, but the case!"

Tony finally understood that there was no point in pissing Gibbs off more than he was already, so he opened his mouth to speak, but Ziva forestalled him. While she was talking, McGee put the picture and the particulars of the victim on the big screen for them to all refer to.

"Lieutenant Dominic Hayes" Ziva started. "Joined the Navy at the age of twenty. He served two tours in Iraq from 2003 to 2005. No wife, no children. He has a clean record, but if he had been pinched with all those drugs we found at his place, he clearly wouldn't have had one any more. He completely cleared his bank account a week ago. It's not hard to figure out what happened here, Gibbs: he decided to commit suicide, instead of showing his face to his dealers again, who would have probably killed him anyway, since he wasn't able to pay for the stuff. Probably he was threatened various times and he simply chose the easier way…"

Gibbs' face revealed emotions for only who knew how to notice them, and Tony certainly fell into that category. When his boss lifted his cup and took a sip of coffee, he left his mouth on the plastic lip, biting down on it. He chewed on it and let go after a few seconds, he couldn't keep his eyes on the screen, he was looking at Ziva instead, as he listened to her report. It made Tony almost happy when he heard Gibbs' phone ring, and so he didn't have to witness all those painful signs any longer.

"I'm on my way, Abbs!" Gibbs said and without a single word he headed towards the elevator, leaving the three of them behind with brows furrowed in confusion for the third time that night.

"Okay, guys, what the heck do you think has got into him?" asked McGee, staring at the elevator doors sliding closed. "This kinda behaviour is really unlike Gibbs. He seems like… like he was nervous. Gibbs never gets nervous."

"Not way in hell, Probie!" Tony told him off. "He's just not the type who would cry on your shoulder once the world doesn't seem light and shiny for some reason. He's more of a problems-are-meant-to be-solved kind of man. Anyway, everyone gets edgy sometimes…" he was thinking for a moment, then went on. "… Okay, maybe my mother was the only exception, but how could have she been mad at such a good boy as little Anthony was…?"

"Would you shut up for a second, Tony?" Ziva cut him off sharply. She'd sat in front of her computer and was typing fervently.

"I don't like to say it, but Probie is right, Ziva! Something is definitely wrong with Gibbs. Haven't you seen how troubled he was? And what about the fact that we could see what he had for lunch at the crime scene? Gibbs has never got sick at work before, never! And now he took a look at the corpse and he sprinted to the toilet right away. I swear, I've never seen him running so fast…"

"Idiot!" Ziva cryed out. "So what do you think all these things mean? Okay, he got sick in the apartment. That's all right, maybe he has the flu, or an upset stomach, but the fact that he couldn't even manage with taking a look at the dead boy's picture… what do you think it means, Sherlock?"

"That he worked too much lately, and he's fed up with the whole thing." answered McGee, though the question wasn't directed at him.

Ziva buried her face in her hands for a second; the boys were really too much for her at the moment.

"Ahh" she sighed. "I can't believe I work with two emotianally illiterate people!"

She started tapping on the keyboard again, trying to ignore Tony, who planted himself on her desk and leaned backwards to get a better view of the monitor.

"What are you looking for that's got you so interested?" he asked her.

"Any kind of relation between Gibbs and our lieutenant. Because he knew him, Tony, and what's more – if you ask me – some day they were very close to each other. I feel it in my teeth."

Tony and McGee exchanged looks. They were so surprised at her statement, they didn't even bother to correct Ziva's expression.

_N*C*I*S_

"What have you got, Abby? Tell me that you found something!"

He'd barely stepped through the lab's door, when he felt skinny arms clasping around him and he realized he had just walked into an Abby-hug.

"Oh, Gibbs, are you feeling better? McGee told me…"

Gibbs pushed her away gently and looking into her eyes he even managed a smile to assure her that everything was all right about him.

"Much better, Abbs, but you know what would really make my day?"

"Cookies?" Abby guessed. "They always make me happy. The big brains say they make your system produce endorphins just like chocolate does. But I don't really think cookies are recommanded for your upset stomach now…" She leaned forward and adressed her next question right to Gibbs' abdomen. "Do you agree with me, Gibbs' tummy?" She even stroked it a bit to be sure she got the answer right. "See, Gibbs? Your tummy agrees…"

She clearly was in her usual chattery and cheery mood, but when she finally looked up at Gibbs' gloomy face, she cut the flow of words immediately.

"If you could tell me something about the dead boy…" he nodded towards the computer.

"Okay, no cookies, back to the dead marine then." Abby shrugged, while smiling at him. "But I'm afraid what you're gonna hear won't make you happy."

Abby stepped next to the table, put on a glove and picked up the murder weapon. Her every word was heavy and painful for Gibbs' ears.

"The fingerprints on it belong to lieutenant Hayes – him, alone. Of course this discovery wouldn't mean that we can't suspect murder, but on the carpet…"

Abby pushed Gibbs to the next table and she stepped up beside him, so the both of them could study the carpet square that laid streched on the table. Abby went on:

"I found only one kind of footprint on it and it matches to the shoes the boys found in the hall…"

"Wait" Gibbs stopped her. "The shoes weren't on his leg when he died, but you found footprints on the carpet?"

"Maybe he walked into the room and pulled them off inside, then took them out." She guessed.

"Well, that seems a bit weird to me, Abs. It just doesn't make sense."

"Why, you always take off your shoes when you get home? Come on Gibbs, you are not the type who cares about tidiness that much! If the guy didn't give a damn about his carpet, why would you?"

"Because it doesn't make any sense…" Gibbs repeated musing, then he quickly returned to reality. "Never mind, go on!"

"The fact is I couldn't find anything that could prove that sombody was in the flat with Hayes. The drug you found is poor quality cocaine. This Nicky-boy kept a lot in store for hard times, now the only thing I don't understand is why he chose the headshot instead of the O.D. The latter form of death is much cooler for an addict, don't ya think, Gibbs?"

Abby directed her gaze from the computer screen to her boss, and she was surprised to see his now dark and furious face.

"Never, ever call him Nicky again, and don't label him an addict! Till Ducky tells us if he has cocaine in his system, we can't draw any negative conclusions. And dying is never cool, Abby, whatever way it occurs. Go home now, get some sleep, you did what you had to for today. Good night!"

Gibbs stormed out of the room and Abby felt completely stunned as she saw him disappear behind the door.

She already noticed at the beginning of their conversation that Gibbs called the liuetenant 'dead boy' and not dead marine, or simply corpse as he usually termed the 'subjects', but the way he burst out because Abby gave the boy a nickname that somehow made her believe that Gibbs knew him. Of course Abby had no idea about their history, so she couldn't presume that her little speech would make him so mad. She decided that tomorrow she would ask the others about what they knew about the strange relationship between Gibbs and the now-dead lieutenant Hayes, but today she didn't intend to bump into Gibbs again. He would tame down and see her tomorrow. At least she hoped so.


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs gave himself two minutes to calm down, before he would walked into autopsy. He knew he wouldn't be shocked as much by the sight of Nick's body as he had been at the crime scene, though this didn't mean he wouldn't have any reaction to it. Besides, he needed those two minutes to clear his head after his visit to Abby - her words about Nick being a junkie had put his teeth on edge. He tried to make himself relax with the thought that Abby didn't know Nick, she had no idea what a backbone that kid had, she didn't know anything about his strong personality, about his interests, and his passion for life.

No, Nick would have never get involved in any drug business, he was sure of it.

At least that Nick he'd known wouldn't. But Gibbs had no idea how life turned out for him in the past five years and that was why he hesitated to enter Ducky's territory now. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the autopsy report, because he was afraid it may change the good memories he saved about the boy – those that even certain occurences in the past couldn't wipe from his heart.

But he had to face reality, because he wouldn't have been faithful to himself, if he didn't want to know the truth. Since the clues didn't seem to be real evidences he doubted he could open an investigation on this case. Every circumstances unambiguously refered to suicide. To an act again, the Nick he knew would have never lowered himself to.

Ducky was Gibbs' only refuge in this situation: he could only hope that the M.E. hasn't found a gram of the illegal matter in Nick's body.

He took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

Ducky was alone in the room, crooning some scottish folk song, while he was freeing his hands from the rubber gloves above the sink.

"Ah, Jethro!" he turned towards him, when he noticed his presence. "How is your stomach?"

"It's fine, Duck." Gibbs walked slowly to the second table where lieutenant Hayes was laid and looked down at his face. The thought that seven years before he had been so mad at the boy he'd had to restrain himself from strangling him was almost unthinkable – as he saw him laying there bare, without a little sparkle of life in his body, he couldn't be angry at him. He wasn't able to hate him anymore.

"You found something?" He finally lifted his head up to look into his friend's eyes.

Ducky joined him by the table and started to speak:

"I think I won't bother you with details on the cause of death, since the physical evidence makes it clear and obvious, Jethro." He pointed at the wound on the lieutenant's head. "However what is more interesting is that I didn't find any narcotics in our poor fellow's body."

"So he didn't use drugs." Gibbs said, more of a statement than a question.

"No, my dear friend, it only proves that he hasn't used drugs in the last week or so, however his sinuses were clear, which means if he favored cocaine it's been a long time since he sniffed, if he used it at all. I'm afraid I can't tell if he's ever been connected to drugs before, all I can say with certainty is that there was nothing in his system at the time of death."

"So, we found cocaine at his place, but none in his system. I can sense a little discrepancy here, can't you, Duck? Or do you have a theory?" Gibbs asked calmly. His glance came to rest on Nick's face from time to time.

"Well, God knows what happened to this poor boy, Jethro. Maybe he had a period in the past when he tried it once or twice and had a hard time giving it up. Let's suppose that years after – nowadays – he'd been offered a temptation. Maybe he couldn't stand the thought that he wasn't able to control the need of his body and mind, he struggled against it for a while and finally he escaped to death. I know this possibility is quite extreme, Jethro, but I can't come up with any better idea. Abigail's forensics haven't help you to find out what happened?"

"No" Gibbs answered with some resignation in his vioce. "Hayes was alone in the room, before his death, if we don't count the bag of cocaine on the nightstand. He had other bags hidden at different places in the apartment. The team did some digging and found that he completely cleared his bank account a week ago. Maybe he owed to his dealer and he wanted to disappear. Then obviously he changed his mind…"

Ducky saw on Gibbs' face that he didn't believe his own speculation can be true.

Gibbs went on:

"Taking all of that into consideration, Duck, this diagnosis didn't help too much now… I think we ran into a dead end."

"I'm so sorry, Jethro!" Ducky said truthfully.

"Me too, Duck, me too…"

"He seems to be a decent young lad… if he wasn't laying here on my slab I'd say that without hesitation." Ducky leaned to the dead boy's ear and went on: "I bet he was very popular among the ladies too."

"Duck…!" Gibbs started, but then he stopped immediately, his eyes dropping the lieutenant's re-stitched body on the table before him.

The doctor looked at his friend's ice-blue eyes.

"Do you want to tell me now? There's just the two of us here, Jethro. I know you well enough to know that there's got to be a serious reason behind you vomiting at a crime scene. How did you know him?"

The question was straight and Gibbs knew there was no point in shuffling any more, it was his interest to get over with his confession as soon as possible, even if it was about to be pretty hurtful. He walked to the sink and leaned on the table's edge, so Ducky could see only his back. Gibbs felt easier to talk this way, like he was calling up memories only to himself.

"Nick lived in the neighborhood with his family. He got matey with Kelly in 1991, not so long after Shannon died. He was the first one Kelly opened up to after losing her mother. They were like siamese twins, it was impossible to sparate them. A year or two passed and Nick spent most of his time at our place, he was practically living with us. I would say his family was all messed up, but from what I saw, he didn't really have one. His mother died years before – maybe that's why he and Kels understood each other so much. He didn't have any brothers or sisters, only a father, who was blind drunk all the time. One day when Nick was sixteen he turned up with a bleeding nose and bruises all over his body, he could hardly walk. I didn't report the dirt-bag only because Nick begged me not to."

When Gibbs reached this point in the story he was just trying to force a rubber glove on his left hand, but on the spur of the moment he pulled it off so strongly, it tore apart. He took another one in his hand and started the procedure again, while he went on with telling the rest of Nick's story.

"Kelly was eighteen when I first cought them kissing in her room. She was head over heels in love with him, Duck, I've never seen her as happy as she was at that time. They were together for two years."

Gibbs turned around and looked at his friend.

"Nick was Kelly's first love."

"Yes, Jethro." Ducky nodded. "And he wasn't a simple soon-to-be marine for you, either. You've never told me about him, never told me you had a… son."

While Ducky was speaking, Gibbs headed back to the corpse and he stroke the boy's hair with his now glove-covered hand. A half smile appeared on his face.

"You must have got used to the fact that my past is not an open book for anybody, Duck. There are things that even you don't know about me, things that I don't talk about unless I absolutely have to. It was the right time to tell you about Nick, and I won't apologize for not telling you earlier.

His tone was calm and Ducky understood his point. He knew Gibbs' past was something he liked to keep private and he respected that. He stepped next to him and put his hand on Gibbs' shoulder.

"When did you break contact with him?" he asked.

Gibbs' face clouded immediately, his stroking hand came to a stop in the lieutenant's still silky smooth hair. He was looking at Nick's face as he was waiting for the waves of hate to fill his heart and mind, for the disappointment that was incomperable with any other feelings, for that kind of disappointment he felt seven years ago. But he couldn't sense anything now, except the enervating feeling of dullness and emptiness.

He didn't want to look at his friend, he didn't want to speak more.

And he didn't have to, because his ringing phone rescued him from the situation. He rummaged it out of his pocket with his right hand, while his left was still resting on Nick's head. However when he heard the well-known and beloved voice at the end of the line, he pulled his hand away from the boy's hair like he'd been given an electric shock.

"Hey, Kels!" Ducky heard as Gibbs greeted his daughter.

"No, I'm still in, we got an evening call, but I'm just about to go home." Gibbs tried to cover the emotions in his tone that blurred all his senses right now.

"Who told you that? No, I'm fine now, I guess I ate something bad."

While he was listening to Kelly his glance travelled between Ducky and Nick. His face looked calm, but his friend knew that if the sea seems still from the shore it doesn't mean there can't be a storm raging somewhere far away.

"Believe me, I'm fine, sweetie. Yeah, I'm going home, after killing DiNozzo, because he didn't get permission to call you…"

Gibbs walked away from the table as far as the other part of the room.

"I know you didn't tell me, but it isn't hard to figure out it was him" he went on. "When do you plan to come by? You work a lot nowadays…"

It was a small pause again, while Kelly spoke. Gibbs smiled.

"Yeah, I know, it's me, who says that… Tomorrow? Sure, about ten. Wait for me in the bullpen, if I'm not there. DiNozzo will entertain you, at least what remains of him after our chit-chat."

Gibbs leaned his back against the wall as he went on.

"Going to bed on time, huh? You're the one who should be in bed by now, kid. … Okay, I promise! … Yeah, I promise that too, I won't hurt Tony too bad. Sleep tight, Kels! … Me too, baby. Good night!"

Gibbs hung the phone up, and by the time he got back to the table the light that flashed on his face while he was talking to Kelly had disappeared.

"When will you tell her?" Ducky asked.

Jethro was lost again in Nick's face, the glassy eyes kept him trapped.

"I won't tell her, Duck" he answered. "I won't tell her."


	4. Chapter 4

***flashback***

_"It's all my fault, sir!" she heard the boy's assertive voice coming from somewhere behind her._

_He didn't mince words, didn't shift the blame to anybody – not to the other boys, not to her, either. He wanted to take all responsibility for what happened, though he was the last person who could be blamed for that the things had gotten out of hand. Kelly knew he just wanted to protect her._

_She didn't see the boy's face, because she looked down, waiting for her father's reaction. She felt as he gently laid his palm on her leg, right under the injury – the touch gave her goosebumps all over her skin. He was squatting in front of her with Kelly's hands on his shoulders, so the girl could stand still. Gibbs examined the bandage that was already soaked with blood, in spite of the fact that it was placed on the wound only fifteen minutes before. He ran one finger over the edge of the material, obviously to check if it was fixed well on her skin, but the pressure he exerted made Kelly wince from the pain. She tightened her grip even more on her dad's shoulder. Gibbs looked up at her, then he glanced at Nick, who was already standing beside them._

_"I'm truly sorry, sir! If there's somebody you can be mad at, that's me, not her. I shouldn't have let her run a race to the river with the boys. They can be pretty aggressive sometimes, they don't shrink back from using mean tricks just to prove that they are better, and they don't care about the consequences at all. Once I cought up with them Kelly was already laying on the ground, they tripped her up…"_

_Gibbs' face was inscrutable while listening to him and Nick hesitated, seeing that he did not bat an eyelid._

_Kelly lifted up her hand and stroked her dad's hair._

_"It's my fault, daddy, Nicky told me not to do it, but the boys baited me: they said I don't want to run with them, beacuse I'm afraid I'm gonna lose. You know how hot-headed I get when they tease me…"_

_She couldn't remember any other time when she'd failed reading her dad's expressions, but now she didn't have any idea what to expect. Ususally he wasn't strict, but sometimes Kelly felt he worried too much about her, especially since her mom had passed away._

_She tried to smile innocently despite the fact that her knee was aching badly, but all she achieved with it was that her father turned to Nicky again. Looking at the boy's face Kelly saw his blue eyes soften, while he pulled a shy smile directed at her father. Kelly looked down and noticed that Gibbs' severe look was gone – it was replaced by that half-smile she missed so much nowadays._

_"Your daughter runs very fast, you know. You can be proud of her…" Nick said with real persuasion in his tone._

_Gibbs chuckled – Kelly couldn't recall the last time he heard him laughing out loud._

_"What's your name, buddy?" Gibbs asked him._

_"It's Dominic Hayes, sir, but everybody calls me Nick." The answer came without hesitation._

_"All right." Gibbs nodded. "So… Nick, who took care of the wound?"_

_"It was me, sir. I'd cleaned it out and disinfected it before I put on the bandage, but it should be changed soon, since it's still bleeding." He pointed at Kelly's knee._

_"Where did you learn how to do this?" Gibbs seemed to be surprised._

_Kelly put her arms around his neck and said:_

_"Nicky's mother was a nurse, daddy."_

_Her father's look traveled between her and Nick._

_"Was?" he asked._

_Nick's voice trembled a bit as he spoke:_

_"She died two years ago, sir. She had cancer."_

_Gibbs' eyes found hers again, the blue irises captured her, didn't let her look away. How much she wanted to escape from that questioning look which wondered if that was the reason she'd been hanging out with this boy for a week now! Kelly didn't want to think about her mother at the moment, she didn't want to cry again, though she knew it would be impossible for her to hold out if her father didn't look away soon. Fortunately Gibbs realized in time how unpleasant this silent interrogation was for Kelly and so he didn't torment her any longer. He placed a kiss on her cheek before he stood up._

_Gibbs stepped to Nick now, and lifted up the boy's right arm gently. There was a sizable abrasion on his elbow – the focus of several trails of blood that wound their ways down his forearm._

_"It's nothing, I'm going home and…" Nick tried to pull his arm away, but Gibbs didn't let him go. Suddenly he reached for him, lifted him up from the ground and made him sit on the kitchen table. _

_"You're not going anywhere," he said and turning away from him he started to rummage for something in the cupboard. He pulled out some bandage and disinfectant, setting them on the table next to Nick, who was more than confused now._

_"Come here, Kels!" Gibbs put her daughter up to the table too, before he turned back to the boy and cupped his chin tenderly as he started to speak to him:_

_"Fixing this for you is the least I can do after what you went through for Kelly today. You ran only to be beside her if something happens to her. You have no idea how much I appreciate that, Nick."_

_"Daddy, I…" Kelly started, but Gibbs cut her short._

_"I'll have a word with you, baby, after I'm done with this and you two have washed the dirt off."_

_She nodded once, then she glanced to her side. The boy was looking at her, too, trying not to grimace at the pain caused by Gibbs' strong hands working on his wounded elbow. She felt Nick's free hand slide towards hers behind their backs where her father couldn't see the touch. Nick's reassuring eyes made her relax, but she still felt a bit guilty, because this time not only herself, but Nick was also a victim of her own sillyness. He was smiling at her though, and it eased her mind a bit. Then Nick turned the impish, grimy face of his in the direction of her father. She didn't know the reason why, but she felt he would never turn back to her._

***end of flashback***_  
_

**The next morning, right up until until **_**that**_** moment… – Kelly**

It's been one week, eleven hours and twenty-three minutes since getting up became the hardest part of the day for Kelly Gibbs. The exact point in time that made it difficult to face reality every day again and again wasn't the one when her now ex-boyfriend, Bryan Mills walked out of the door, rather the monologue he presented two minutes before he left – the echo of which remained rattling around inside Kelly's head, appearing every day in her very first lucid moment after waking up.

_"You should get a shrink to cure your workaholic attitude!"_

Being a journalist wasn't simply a profession for Kelly. It was her hobby, her passion, her lifestyle. She had to prove a lot, take the entire career step by languorous step, every one more challenging than the last. She gave up many things – friends, relationships, even meeting her father when she studied out of town – to finally get a job at one of the most widely-read newspapers in Washington, DC. She was very proud of what she'd achieved, her work was acknowledged and she loved her job. The only problem was that her current partner never could tolerate the career that was her calling. She always seemed to find the guys who had no idea what the word 'enthusiasm' meant.

Bryan's other statement was again an awkward complaint about being neglected, and so this shouldn't have surprised Kelly, given her romantic history:

_"If you miraculously find yourself some free time, I'm the last one you would spend it with, you run immediately to your navy-cop friends. It's like only guys who carry a gun can turn you on."_

Kelly smiled. Bryan was… what was the term? Jelaous? Totally! The successful, handsome dentist, who can give everything to a woman, who is great in bed, who is gallant and all the way perfect… apart from one thing: paranoia. Because Bryan got into his head that the reason why Kelly couldn't fully belong to him was that his name didn't contain the magical 'special agent' title. Kelly thought that this conviction was more than ridicolous. Her dad's team was like a family to her, and the building of NCIS was a place where she could always find somebody who listened to her, whether she was happy, sad, crazy or whatever.

All right, sometimes she helped the boys out: if McGee wanted to buy a new tie, but couldn't decide which one, she would take him to the mall and point out how stupid a plaid one would look. Once she'd come home well after midnight because DiNozzo bought a new washing machine, but he had not a clue how to use it.

She spent one night in every two weeks at Gibbs' house. The last time she'd gone to leave for her Dad's place, Bryan had got peeved, thrown a fit and since Kelly wasn't in the mood to handle a hysterical outburst, she simply walked out the door. Once she was in the car she didn't give a damn about the speed limit – she wanted to be in her father's tight hug, so she could forget everything.

_"I think you're too independent to share your life with anybody. It's terrific how far you can push those who really want to be with you, who want to take care of you. I gave up trying to break down the wall you built around you, Kelly. I can't cope with this situation anymore…"_

He couldn't cope with it; with her. Right after Bryan left her and she wiped away the last tears she dropped, she resolved that she won't blame herself for what happened. Bryan was convinced it was all Kelly's fault, because his huge ego made him blind enough not to notice his own defects. Something was missing from him, but Kelly herself couldn't tell what was that something. It just wasn't there.

And the wall… well, that wall had a reason to stand.

She sat up slowly in her bed and clasped her knees to her chest. She could recall her dream now, and while she ran her fingers through her hair she tried to figure out why she had a night vision about Him again, after such a long time. Maybe it was the break-up that brought up the childhood memory – her subconscious could utilize the emotional chaos she suffered from. And so it did.

Kelly sighed as she combed her long brown hair back from her face with her hand. She stared out of the window at the cloudy morning sky.

There was a time when that wall didn't exist.

But then it built up. Brick by brick. In only a few weeks' time.

_N*C*I*S_

After taking a look at the alarm clock she decided it was time to gather herself together. She had a day off, but she promised her dad she would drop by in the office. Otherwise she wanted to take a visit at her own workplace too, because she couldn't get her mind off the topic of her upcoming article.

Her morning routine however made her concentrate on down to earth things at the moment: she'd filled and switched on the coffee maker before she made her way to the bathroom. A few minutes later she was standing in front of the wardrobe in her blue bra and matching panties with her toothbrush in her mouth and tried to figure out what she should put on. While she was musing, she kept on brushing her teeth – if you can kill two birds with one stone, why not go for it?

She remembered how wide her dad's smile was every time he cought her during this morning ritual. Since her mouth was full of toothpaste she couldn't pronounce the words properly, so instead of mumbling „stop laughing at me" she shook her head, which was a clear warning for him to let her alone with her thoughts.

Gibbs would usually bend to his daughter's will in those cases, though the grin never disappeared and he never failed to mention that she should put on her slippers, because the floor is too cold for bare toes, before he walked away to make breakfast.

Returning to the present, she finally pulled out two pieces of clothing from her wardrobe and dropped them on the bed before she headed back to the bathroom to finish the teeth-washing procedure. Two minutes later she was fully dressed, and standing in front of the mirror she was just trying to reconstruct the train of thought that led her to choose a skirt on her day off, rather than one of her comfortable jeans. She hardly ever wore a skirt; not that it didn't suit her, it simply wasn't her thing. But still, she was wearing one now, and she didn't feel like changing again. She wondered how many of the people she would see today would notice the rare phenomenon.

When she checked the clock again, it was only fifteen minutes to ten. She poured coffee into a travel mug and half a minute later the apartment door-lock clicked into place behind her.

_N*C*I*S_

When she arrived at the bullpen, all the chairs were empty, except Tony's. He was chewing on a piece of pizza, while with his free hand he's just turned the page of the magazine laying in front of him on the desk – perfect signs of that he wasn't expecting Gibbs to return in the near future, at least not inside the time that it would take Tony to finish his unauthorised and unorthodox lunch.

"Hey, Tony!"

Kelly bent over the desk to place a kiss on his cheek. Tony swallowed the last bite, put the box up to the table from his lap and streched his muscles that stiffened after sitting hunched over paperwork for hours.

"Hey, Sunshine! Gibbs said you're coming. What's up with you? We haven't seen you in… what? Three days?"

"Nothing's up, Tony. I see you're enjoying yourself… Where is everybody? Geez, what happened here?"

Kelly's last question was inspired by the sight of the huge pool of coffee that she'd just discovered taking up most of the floor.

"Here and there." Tony answered her previous question first. "And that mess there is Gibbs' fault. Almost unbelievable, but true. He was in a hurry for catching the elevator and his cup landed on the floor instead of the desk. Don't worry, I've already called the cleaners – somebody other than me has to do some work around here!"

"Sure, Tony, and if you keep up the good work, you'll be agent of the month. Are they going to put your pizza coupons on the wall too, next to your photo to demonstrate how somebody can eat complete junk and do important work at the same time?"

While she was talking, she approached her father's desk trying to avoid the coffee-puddle. She took off her coat and draped it over the back of chair. Then she made her way back towards DiNozzo, picking up some napkins from his pile and dropping them onto the floor in an effort to absorb some of the liquid, bending down to pick them up when they'd turned completely brown.

Tony wanted to bite back after the sharp remark, but when he realized what Kelly was wearing, he totally forgot what he was going to say.

After she'd cleaned up as much of the coffee as she could, Kelly dumped the napkins into McGee's trash basked and looked back at DiNozzo again. She couldn't help but smile when she saw that his jaw had dropped open in astonishment.

"Oh my God, is that really a skirt on you?" he asked, as a wide and somewhat innocent grin playing at his features.

Kelly raised one eyebrow at him, crossing her arms and leaning against Tim's desk, looking Tony up and down before replying.

"Oh my God, is that really tomato sauce on your shirt?"

"Oh damn, not again!" Tony muttered discovering the red spot on his chest. Now he was the one who reached for the napkins, not that it would have been any chance to make the evidence of his clumsiness disappear with them.

Kelly sunk into McGee's chair and crossed her legs while she kept on observing DiNozzo, who was still trying to wipe his shirt clean.

"So?" Kelly asked.

"So, what?" Tony looked up at her.

"You can admit it, Tony. You think I look stunning today…"

Tony chuckled as he amied at McGee's wastebasket with the napkin.

"Kels, I really don't want to hurt your feelings, but even if I thought so – which is… let's say… more than possible –, I fear for my life enough not to say such a thing out loud – especially not with Gibbs inside a five-mile radius. I prefer my head attached to my body, thank you very much."

He shrugged as he spoke, a hint of a smile appeared in the corner of his mouth. He loved to tease Kelly, he loved that the girl was open to a little verbal sparring. Tony was convinced that she talked twice as much in a week as her father did in his entire life.

Kelly's smile was bittersweet this time. Of course she tried to hide how much the recent events of her life broke her down, but sometimes it was hard to push the emotions into the background. She needed to feel whole again, she needed to know that she wasn't a person who everybody wanted to be rid of.

She was feeling somewhat depressed and rejected, that was why she wished to gather as much words of appreciation as she could recently, and that was also the reason of that Tony's refuse got under her skin. Had he really turned into such a milksop recently, or was he messing with her again? The answer was fairly obvious and so Kelly decided to play along.

"I think you just demonstrated the point of why rule 12 exists, Tony." she said.

"Never date a coworker?"

Kelly chuckled.

"Yeah, I should've thought this is the only one you know the number of. But no, I'm talking about my regulations now. Number twelve is: never date with anybody who knows your father."

Tony smiled and took another piece of pizza out of the box.

"Kelly-rules, huh?"

Kelly shrugged.

"So much pressure to measure up to my father… But if you give it another thought, this rule makes so much sense. Let's take you as an example: just a minute ago you were afraid to give me a compliment, because you might have earned a slap with it from my dad. Now imagine what would happen, if some day you and me would end up having sex? I bet the only thing you could think of during would be him, and all the methods he'd use to make you feel very uncomfortable about the thing you would be doing to me at the moment. I think it's understandable I don't want to date guys who think about my father while making love to me, isn't it?"

At this, Tony choked on his bite of pizza, and it took almost half a glass of water before he was able to breathe again, let alone talk coherently. His face was flushed and he stared with wide, startled eyes at Kelly. He apparently had imagined the situation just the way she'd expected.

She put her hand on her mouth to repress a laugh. She loved to tease Tony, she loved how she could still surprise him and make his cute face go red because of a few words she said.

"That was below the belt" Tony said, his voice still strained.

"I'm sorry, Tony" She was laughing a little as she stepped over to him, patting and stroking his back as he continued to cough.

"Your reaction was telling, though. The reason for that rule is quite well established."

Tony nodded once and smiled at her. She noticed his eyes were redder than could be blamed on her joke and his subsequent inhaling of pizza – he must have pulled an all-nighter.

"Okay, you won this time. I can't really work around your rule 12." he said.

"It's all right, Tony, guess by this time you're tired enough of the paperwork." She ran her fingers through his hair. "So dad is down in the lab, or autopsy? He must have been in a rush if he dropped his coffee."

"You arrived right after the elevator door closed behind him. McGee went down with him, and that makes him brave, because I wouldn't dare to share such a small place with him until he gave up this odd behavior. Don't you know what has got into him nowa…?"

He stopped as he heared the elevator bell ring.

"Look, who's here! You survived the journey, Probie?"

McGee seemed like he didn't hear a word Tony said, he went straight to Kelly and clutched her arm gently. A bunch of terrible thoughts attacked Kelly's mind as she saw the boy's pale and panic-stricken face and it just became worse when she noticed the deep red drops on his shirt. She didn't see any injury on him though, and there could be only one explanation to that: it wasn't his blood.

"Jesus, Timmy, what happened?"

McGee let her arm go and took her hand instead. He started to pull her towards the elevator, and it felt like a decade had passed until he finally got to say the following two short sentences:

"You gotta come with me to autopsy, Kelly. Your father passed out in the elevator."

The door shut behind them.

A few minutes later Kelly was standing between two dissection tables and struggled with various feelings running through her at the same time: she felt so lost, so helpless, so desperate.

On her one side was her dad with a white, yet blood-covered face and her childhood-love on the other: cold and lifeless. She wished she could wake up from this nightmare, but it didn't matter how hard she concentrated: she lost the battle against reality.

* * *

**A/N: So this is how I imagine Kelly as an adult. What do you think of her? Who do you think she would make the perfect pair with from the team? - Tony? McGee? Maybe Palmer? :) I already have somebody in mind, of course, but I'm very courious about your opinion. Next chapter will contain more angsty!Gibbs - just because I like to torture him *evil grin* :) Okay, no, I'm not that bad, but he's always so strong and calm and somehow I like to put him into situations that he has no control of (in an emotional kinda way). **

**Anyway, you may have noticed that I love the descriptive parts, especially when it comes to write about emotions. It means the storyline itself develops in a slower pace and so it will be a much more longer story than I thought. I have no problem with it, because I enjoy writing this, but if you think I should write less emotions and more actions, then let me know and I'll do what I can! :) **

**I know it's been a long time since I last updated, but I had a bunch of exams to take at the university. Exam session is over now, so I'm back and will update more often. Reviews would make me very happy, so keep them coming, please! Thanks for reading! :) xox Pumpkingirl  
**


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